


to be alone with you

by The_IPRE



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Conversations, F/F, Sunsets, this author is a firm believer in the inherent tenderness of sharing an orange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:15:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22471678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_IPRE/pseuds/The_IPRE
Summary: Ayda’s hair was glowing like filaments where it caught the light, a glowing halo curled around her profile, and for a moment Fig let herself notice. It was a sight that made her want to write poetry. The way the sunlight seemed to burn along Ayda’s eyelashes made her want to be sappy and write love songs and put a boom box on her shoulder and stand in the street below, and it was something that she knew she wouldn’t share with anybody else.Fig had to look away before she was herself and did something she couldn’t take back, so she looked down at where her hands were worrying the orange that she had brought, and oh, right. “I got this for you.”
Relationships: Ayda Augefort & Figureoth Faeth
Comments: 7
Kudos: 69





	to be alone with you

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to go into a consumptive fit over the love language of oranges: [here](https://charminglyantiquated.tumblr.com/post/190461393383/transannecarson-misteerie-nghtving-a-little)

It was strange to see the Compass Points Library empty. 

Sure, Fig had only been there once or twice before, but stepping from the bustling city of Leviathan into the silent and echoing halls would have her shivering if she weren’t a tiefling.

As things were, though, she just made her way deeper into the hollowed halls, trying not to act like she was as small as she felt. There was an orange in her hands, and she couldn’t stop herself from rolling it between her palms as she made her way up to the observatory. 

Fig knew that she should have felt good. They had fought a deity without a name, defeated the Shadow Cat, and managed to get a passing grade on their Spring Break assignment – arguably the most important part of the trip – and yet as she walked through that empty library, footsteps loud enough that she had to hum to drown them out, she wasn’t quite sure where she stood in the world.

She was an adventurer finished with her quest and a rock star who wasn’t writing music and an elf who wasn’t an elf, and she didn’t know what to do with herself.

Stepping into the observatory, Fig saw Ayda, silhouetted on the balcony as she stared out over the floating city. The sun crept down in the sky, illuminating the feathers of her wings and filling the dome with golden light, and without knowing how it had happened, Fig was smiling. Her footsteps filled the room as she ducked under the telescope and propped herself against the edge of the window, feeling like every bad-boy love interest in a coming of age movie. “Hey.”

“Ah. Hello, Fig. Is it time for us to go?” Ayda’s gaze swung up and passed over Fig’s eyes to settle somewhere above her head, but before Ayda could stand up Fig lifted her hands to pause her.

“We’re good, we’ve still got time!” Fig didn’t miss the irony of an adventurer saying that to a half-phoenix who would probably live a _lot_ longer than her, but she didn’t comment on it either. She was chaotic enough as she was, if she didn’t have a filter the world wouldn’t stand a chance. “Gorgug is still tinkering on the van, and Fabian is off doing...actually, I don’t know what he’s doing. Main thing is, we’ve still got some time before we need to go.” Fig tapped her knuckles lightly against the wood frame, not wanting to look emotionally invested but still making an effort to trust Ayda to not outright reject her. “Mind if I sit?”

“I do not.” Ayda scooted to the side and slapped her hand down twice on the ledge beside her, before looking at it with a puzzled frown. “Is this anything? Is this a thing that people do?”

Fig laughed as she tossed herself down. Ayda’s breath caught beside her when she landed, but Fig wasn’t really that worried for her own safety. She’d gotten pretty good at not falling, what with all those nights that she had climbed up to the roof during her teenage rebellion phase. “Sometimes! It’s kind of a welcoming thing. Like, ‘yes, I _do_ want you to sit here.’”

“Yes. Well, I am welcoming you.” Ayda’s hands were settled on her knees, hardly moving as she looked out across the city that she had grown up in. The sun was getting low in the sky to the point where Fig had to either move into the shadow cast by the building across the street or be blinded, but that wasn’t really her biggest concern. 

Ayda’s hair was glowing like filaments where it caught the light, a glowing halo curled around her profile, and for a moment Fig let herself notice. It was a sight that made her want to write poetry. The way the sunlight seemed to burn along Ayda’s eyelashes made her want to be sappy and write love songs and put a boom box on her shoulder and stand in the street below, and it was something that she knew she wouldn’t share with anybody else.

Fig had to look away before she was herself and did something she couldn’t take back, so she looked down at where her hands were worrying the orange that she had brought, and oh, _right_. “I got this for you.”

She held it out between them in one hand, skin warming as it left the shadow she was sitting in, and Ayda’s eyes widened. One arm raised slightly before pausing, barely an inch above where it had rested on her leg. Fig wondered if Ayda would always run the calculations on sincerity.

“This is very meaningful. I am greatly in your debt.” Still, Ayda’s hand hovered in the air, closer to the orange, but even then looking like she was prepared for Fig to snatch it back, probably with a cruel joke and crueler grin.

Fig knew that she couldn’t change the past, but when she got back to Solace she was going to Hellish Rebuke Arthur Augefort for what he had done to Ayda. She’d like to take on all of Leviathan too, the city that left Ayda a girl with the world on her shoulders and nobody there to share the burden, but there was only so much she could fight. A level twenty wizard, though, that would be a piece of cake. 

She moved a little closer to Ayda, coming into the golden light. “You don’t owe me anything, this is a gift! No strings attached, I promise. We’re _friends_ , and I got this for you because-” _I like who I am around you_ , some part of her mind supplied, and Fig had to shove that down because _wow_ that would be like tearing open her chest and inviting Ayda to have a look around. “I like being around you. And! I wanted to.”

Ayda nodded, a sharp movement that was opposite to the tenderness she used to accept the fruit from Fig’s hand. “Friends.” She picked at the peel with quick motions, tearing off gold-piece sized pieces and dropping them into her lap. “You have been kind to me before, and this was incredibly kind. I hope that you continue to be kind to me.”

“Hey, you don’t need to ask,” Fig said, picking at a tear in her jeans. Fuck it, if Ayda was busting out the emotional honesty, she could too. “You- uh. You make me want to be the me who’s nice.”

“You are nice.” Ayda split the orange in half and peeled off a slice, handed it to Fig. 

“Hey, you don’t have to-”

“I want to.” Ayda turned, looked just to the right of Fig. “We’re friends.”

She said it like it was that easy, and as she reached over and took the slice, Fig let herself imagine what it would be like if friendship really _was_ that easy. Nobody turning their backs when horns grew in, no confusion over where she stood in their party, just two girls, sitting on a windowsill and sharing an orange.

Fig could almost imagine that the fruit was still warm where Ayda had held it, the juice starting to ooze out against her fingers, and she traded her a grin in return. “Thanks.”

Ayda nodded again and pulled off a piece for herself, before biting along the edge and peeling the membrane away. She ate that first, and then began to eat the inner bits, one by one. Fig, as usual, was unable to keep from sticking her foot in her mouth.

“What are you doing?”

Ayda froze, a small piece of pulp stuck to her lip. “Was I not supposed to do this? I can stop. Do you want this back?”

“No no no, it’s all good!” Fig held her hands up, not giving Ayda the chance to try to return her gift. “I just haven’t seen anybody eating an orange like that before? You just- I don’t know, I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Was that a good unexpected occurrence or a bad one?”

Fig shrugged, as uncomfortable in her communication skills as she was her own skin. “Neutral? Don’t let me stop you, though, you do you!”

“Hmm.” Ayda looked down at the dessicated orange slice in her hands, and then back up to Fig’s direction. Her taloned feet were curling and uncurling, scratching against the wall of the building, and Fig was suddenly back at the first sleepover she had ever been to, young and surrounded by people who were friends with each other and hopelessly out of her depth.

She wasn’t that little girl anymore, though, and she could communicate like the almost-but-not-quite-adult that she was. “That was rude of me, and I’m sorry.” She felt like she was reading off a script, and also kind of like her mom would be proud, and she wasn’t sure what to do with either of those feelings so she just forged ahead. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“That’s not true.” Ayda looked down at the fruit in her hands and began picking it apart again, eating it bit by bit. “I like it when you talk. It helps me. Things are confusing, but you know what to do, so I listen to you, and things are still confusing, but at least I know what I should do.”

Fig took a bite of her orange slice, letting the juice sit in her mouth before she swallowed, trying to figure out how to say that her advice _really_ wasn’t the best to follow, given her track record. “Just because we’re friends, that doesn’t mean that you have to listen to me or, I don’t know, let me tell you what to do.”

“Is that not what friends are for?” Ayda’s eyes narrowed, calculations running yet again. 

The tapping of Fig’s heels against the side of the building reverberated up her legs and into her shrug. “Friends are there to support you, or to hang out with, or to talk to. I- Ayda, I don’t think I’m the best example of what you would call a ‘good friend.’” She could get angry and possessive and turn into somebody else, and she’d gotten Ayda an orange because she knew that would mean a lot to her and she wanted Ayda to like her and that felt kind of manipulative. She had also seriously considered murdering an elf because he'd said that he told Ayda that Fig didn't care about her, and Fefefthriel was definitely an asshole and definitely deserved it, but she also didn't know if that was what would qualify as "good friend behavior." Breath held without knowing why, Fig looked out over Leviathan, feeling just as untethered as the city itself.

She wanted to be a good friend, she really did, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Ayda, sharp and brilliant and perpetually decoding the world around her, deserved better.

Next to her, Ayda peeled off another tiny piece of fruit from her slice and ate it. “I think that you are a good friend.” Before Fig could open her mouth, to say _aw, thanks_ , or to protest, or to do who knew what, Ayda continued. “You supported me when I was having issues with my father. At the sleepover, you both hung out with and talked to me. You fit the criteria that I believe is important in a friend. You are kind to me. You encourage me. You make me want to be brave. That doesn’t happen a lot. Or. Ever.”

“Oh.” The exhale that came from Fig’s mouth was _far_ too soft so she ate the rest of her fruit, trying to drown all of those feelings that welled up at her friend’s – _friend’s_ – words. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re a good friend too.”

“That is worth a lot.” Ayda peeled off another piece of the orange and handed it to Fig. She took it, and their fingers brushed, and she pretended that it didn’t make her feel like she was dissolving in the golden light of the setting sun. The blinding light didn’t bother her so much anymore, not with how it turned the sky above them a blazing orange that was almost as bright as the fire of Ayda’s eyes.

There was silence for the next few minutes – well, as silent as a pirate city could ever get – while they shared the orange, Fig eating her slices in large bites while Ayda picked hers apart. It was _nice_ , just getting to sit there, heels and talons alike bumping against the side of the building while they took care to not look at each other, but it was nicer when Ayda broke the quiet. “I was not quite accurate before.”

Fig spit out a seed that had made its way into her mouth, watching it arc into the street below and land in a pirate’s elaborately coiffed locks. “About what?”

“I said that you make me want to be brave. It isn’t quite accurate that you make me want to be brave. I do already want to be brave. This world just does not appear to be one that likes me being brave. When you are around – when you want me to do things – you let me feel not guilty for wanting to do them too.” Ayda tore off a piece of the orange’s membrane and put it in her mouth, fingers picking at the fruit and each other while she searched for her words. “When you encourage me, I don’t feel nervous about wanting things. I think- hmm. You let me let myself be brave.”

“I- uh, I don’t know what to say to that?” Fig knew that she was blushing, she probably had a stupid expression on her face because she wasn’t used to people just telling her that they were _actually_ glad she was around, even if it wasn’t in so many words. 

Ayda stiffened beside her. “I should not have said that. I should not have been brave about that.”

“No! Ayda, I’m glad you were, it’s just-” Fig let out a sigh. She was emotionally constipated, but she was going to make an effort. Ayda deserved that. Time and time again, she deserved it. “Honesty is hard, and I am going to be honest with you, but hearing, you know, verbal confirmation that someone likes me? My first instinct is to run. I’m.” She laughed. “I’m not really all that brave when it comes down to this kind of thing. For you, though, I, uh. I want to be.”

“Ah.” Ayda nodded again. “Well. Perhaps we can both help each other be brave.”

Fig smiled, wiping the orange juice from her fingers onto her jeans. “Perhaps, indeed.” She glanced at Ayda out of the corner of her eye, made contact, and watched as Ayda’s gaze flickered back out over the city. 

Fig felt warmed through, by the burning star that crept closer to the horizon, by the fire in Ayda’s eyes, by the sun-soaked stone and wood of the Compass Points Library, and she wondered if that was what friendship felt like. 

Reaching out, she grabbed one of the pieces of orange peel from Ayda’s lap and pressed it between her fingers, humming and pulling warmth to her fingertips. Thaumaturgy was a versatile enough spell and she was a rock star, she could do a little creative spell casting even if the cantrip wasn’t _technically_ meant to dry citrus peels. The air, already smelling like fruit and smoke and whatever else people could cook up on Leviathan, began to smell a little like burning oranges. Not the best scent, she would be the first to admit, but she had already started the project and she wasn’t going to give up on it after a minor setback like a bad scent. Besides, living on Leviathan, people probably encountered worse on the daily.

Fig didn’t raise her head as Ayda looked over, but she could imagine the expression on her face, eyebrows furrowed and that intense gaze of trying to solve the mystery presented to her. “Is this something that people normally do?”

“Not really, but I don’t usually do ‘normal things,’” Fig said, channelling a little bit more magic into the rind before holding it up. “Ta da!”

“Ta da?”

“It’s a charm. Or something? I don’t know, it just seemed fun.” Magic buzzed a bit under her skin and she was falling back into her element, showing off and doing dumb shit in the name of friendship. 

As she held it up, the dried peel looked almost like it had rusted, jagged around the edges from Ayda’s nails and indented in places from the press of Fig’s fingers. “It could be- oh hold on, I’ve got a great idea.” Fig took off one of her hoop earrings and stabbed the end through the top of the orange charm, working it along the metal until it was settled at the bottom of the loop. “Jewelry!”

“Ta da.” Ayda was smiling, and Fig realized that she was too, fitting the earring back through her piercing. “That is strange but you wear it well.”

Fig tossed her head, feeling the peel scuff against her neck as her braid thudded against the frame beside her. “Hell yeah, thank you! Do you want one?”

Ayda paused, looking at Fig’s ear, and then nodded. “If you are willing to make one, I would appreciate having it.”

“Of course I’ll make you one, that’s why I offered,” Fig said, grabbing another piece of peel and repeating the process. It wasn’t the prettiest thing she’d ever made, and maybe it didn’t smell the best, but it was something that she was making with her own two hands and her own spells, and it wasn’t for a quest or an audience or somebody she was pretending to be. 

Fig held it out for Ayda to take, and if they both held on for a moment longer than they needed to before Ayda pulled it close, neither mentioned it. 

“I do not know what I am going to do with this.”

“I could give you an earring if you wanted-”

“My ears are not pierced.”

“That’s okay,” Fig said before gasping, an idea starting to take shape. “Do you want them to be? I could probably pierce them. It’s actually pretty easy, you just sterilize a needle and use an ice cube to numb the skin- I don’t actually know if that would work with how warm your skin is, though.”

Ayda broke in before Fig could continue her planning, and there was a bit of a grimace on her face. “Is is something that you want to do?”

Fig raised a shoulder, reeling herself back in, because, _right_ , not everybody was in the perpetual phase of wanting to get piercings instead of dealing with their emotions. “Not if it isn’t something that you want. Don’t feel pressured on my account!”

Ayda was quiet, turning the charm over in her fingers. “I don’t think that I want to be brave about this.”

“That’s okay! Thanks for telling me, though, I’m glad you did.”

“I am glad as well.” 

The two of them sat there, talking and watching the golden light as it dwindled. Ayda ended up putting her charm on a bracelet that held spell components, and together, they polished off the rest of the orange. Fig started a competition to see who could hit the passersby below with leftover pieces of the peel, and the confused noises rising from the street made them both grin. 

They watched the sun go down, and Fig said that they didn’t have sunsets like this back at home, and she tried not to think about _home_. Ayda said that she wanted to be brave about _this_ and took Fig’s hand in her own, and Fig figured that she didn’t really need to worry about home right then.

The sun fell behind the horizon, and as lights began to burn all across Leviathan, Fig’s hand was warm in Ayda’s. It took some maneuvering to be able to rest her head on Ayda’s shoulder without poking her with her horns, but then one of Ayda’s wings came around Fig’s back to hold her close, and she didn’t feel like anything other than a teenage girl sitting on a windowsill with her best-friend-and-maybe-crush.

For the first time in a long time, she didn’t have to be anything else.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave a comment or kudos, or come talk to me on tumblr at [the-ipre](https://the-ipre.tumblr.com)!


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